


The Song of a Maid

by alexandrawritesss



Category: Original Work
Genre: Assassination Plot(s), Betrayal, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fake Character Death, France (Country), French Characters, Maids, POV First Person, Princes & Princesses, Romance, Royalty, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29789601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexandrawritesss/pseuds/alexandrawritesss
Summary: 19 years ago, a princess and daughter was born. She was the sole heiress to the French throne and the only daughter of the influential royal family.Although when a tragic fire kills the royal family, the nation is devastated at the loss of their rulers and princess.However, when she comes back for vengeance and to reclaim her birthright, will she succeed?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	1. Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.  
Text Copyright © 2020 by Alexandra Vorontsov  
All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. 

Cover Illustration:  
Pinterest, https://www.pinterest.com/pin/14918242506138398/. Accessed 17 February 2021.


	2. Dedication

In honor of all the lives lost due to police brutality and to Jesus, for making all things possible.

TAMIR RICE

RUMAIN BRISBON

BRIAN KEITH DAY

ALBERT JOSEPH DAVIS

CHRISTOPHER DAVIS

TERRILL THOMAS

PETER GAINES

JUNIOR PROSPER

ALEXIA CHRISTIAN

BENNI LEE TIGNOR

EMMETT TILL

BRENDON GLENN

BREONNA TAYLOR

RICHARD PERKINS

MICHAEL SABBIE

SAMUEL DUBOSE

SYLVILLE SMITH

VICTOR MANUEL LAROSA

KEVIN MATTHEWS

QUINTONIO LEGRIER

TORREY ROBINSON

RONELL FOSTER

CHRISTOPHER MCCORVEY

MARVIN PARKER

LAMONTEZ JONES

MIGUEL ESPINAL

PATERSON BROWN

AARON BAILEY

BILLY RAY DAVIS

CHRISTIAN TAYLOR

TANISHA ANDERSON

TERENCE CRUTCHER

CHRISTOPHER WHITFIELD

MICHAEL BROWN

DARRIUS STEWART

ANTRONIE SCOTT

SHARONDA COLEMAN-SINGLETON

TONY ROBINSON

DANTE PARKER

ANTHONY ASHFORD

ALTON STERLING

KEVIN HICKS

WALTER SCOTT

SALVADO ELLSWOOD

JOSEPH MANN

TROY ROBINSON

LAQUAN MCDONALD

DARIUS ROBINSON

KEITH HARRISON MCLEOD

BOTHAM JEAN

AIDEN ELLISON

JAMAR CLARK

PHILLIP WHITE

MYA HALL

SGT. JAMES BROWN

ERIC HARRIS

CHARLES ROUNDTREE JR.

MICHAEL LEE MARSHALL

MICHELLE CUSSEAUX

NATHANIEL HARRIS PICKETT

PAMELA TURNER

ERIC GARNER

ANTHONY HILL

PAUL O'NEAL

PHILANDO CASTILE

JONATHAN SANDERS

SANDRA BLAND

JONATHAN FERRELL

ALONZO SMITH

ATATIANA JEFFERSON

FELIX KUMI

DOMINIC HUTCHINSON

EZELL FORD

RANDY NELSON

ERIC REASON

OSCAR GRANT

WENDELL CELESTINE

DYZHAWN PERKINS

REKIA BOYD

NATASHA MCKENNA

WILLIAM CHAPMAN II

GEORGE FLOYD

FRANK SMART

LA'VANTE BIGGS

FREDDIE GRAY

CALIN ROQUEMORE

STEPHON CLARK

JOHN CRAWFORD III

GEORGE MANN

DAVID JOSEPH

DANIEL PRUDE

MARCO LOUD

WAYNE A. JONES

DEMARCUS SEMER

DAVID MCATEE

MICHAEL LORENZO DEAN

MARY TRUCXILLO

TERENCE CRUTCHER

WILLIE TILLMAN

AKAI GURLEY

MANUEL ELLIS

KEITH CHILDRESS JR.

JAMEL FLOYD

PRISCILLA SLATER

WILLIAM GREEN

INDIA KAGER

ELIJAH MCCLAIN

JORDAN EDWARDS

EMANTIC BRADFORD JR.

ANTWON ROSE II

ALFRED OLANGO

MATTHEW AJIBADE

ALTERIA WOODS

ASSHAMS PHAROAH MANLEY

JANET WILSON

MICHAEL NOEL

BETTIE JONES

DOMINIQUE CLAYTON

JEMEL ROBERSON

JERAME REID

TYREE CRAWFORD

**SAY THEIR NAMES**

Reminder: No matter the color of our skin, the place of our descent, or the language we speak, we are the same.


	3. Foreword

Hello and thank you for giving my story a chance!  
I will not tolerate any hate, and please mind that I am still a student so please feel free to comment on any grammatical errors.  
Also, I have never been to France. However, this story takes place in France. Therefore, I mean no disrespect to France or their culture because I am going off of research that I have done on google. Furthermore, items in this story might not follow the correct historical timeline of when they were invented.  
And because of my love for classical music, there will be a piece that you can play.  
I hope you all stay safe during this pandemic. Please wear your mask and stay six feet away from others.  
Lastly, this story is also published on Wattpad under the same username.

\- Alex

Pinterest board: https://pin.it/1gM5y4m


	4. 01

_The frosty air bit at my skin. The night sky was clear, and if you looked close enough, you could see the stars. The faint lights from houses and street lamps lit the pavement. The air was still and quiet._

_I turned away from the window and looked at my surroundings. The walls were towering. They reached up higher than I thought possible. The corridors were lined with dim-lit candles, letting me see what was on the walls. They were covered in tapestries and portraits._

_I took a step toward a portrait that caught my eye. The women in the painting looked familiar. Her black hair to her chocolate brown eyes. Her hair reached past her shoulders. She looked graceful. The portrait next to it was of a man. He had dirty blonde hair and emerald eyes. He looked powerful._

_I turned away when I heard rushed footsteps come down the hall. I looked at the hooded figure a few meters away from me. They stuck their hand into a pocket and took out a tiny box. They turned away from me before I could see what it was. They threw something to the ground, muttering something about a baby, and left as quickly as they came._

_I was curious as to what they had thrown, so I walked over to take a closer look. Before my mind could process that they had thrown a lit match to the ground, it seemed that the whole corridor was on fire. I rushed down the hall and into the nearest room._

_I let out a breath and rested my head against the door. The seconds of silence was interrupted by a baby’s cry. The shock and confusion were clear on my face. I turn around and see a baby. Maybe this was the baby they were talking about. The baby looks at me, and one thing I do notice is that she has the same eyes as me. One emerald green eye and another russet brown eye._

_The window creaked open as I took a step back. A woman scurried over to where the baby is. She grabbed the baby from the crib and hid her in the cloak she was wearing._

_I opened my mouth to yell for help. But nothing came out. I couldn’t speak. I tried to move, but I couldn’t move my feet. I hadn’t noticed that the woman left, or that the fire had spread into the room. The smoke I was inhaling made me gasp for air and my eyes watery. I heard a creak above me and looked up. Before I could register what was happening the wooden beam fell on me._

I shot up in my bed, gasping for air. Cold sweat was dripping down my face. I looked over at my clock; it was only 4:43 in the morning. I let out a quiet groan and got out of bed. I walk across my room and into the bathroom and look at my reflection in the mirror. My green and brown red-rimmed eyes stare at my face. My under eyes are colored in shades of dark blue and purple. I’ve been having the same nightmare for over a month. But I don’t feel like this is a dream and more like a distant memory. Everyone and everything in the dream felt too familiar; Especially the woman and the man.

I brush my teeth and turn the bath tap on, wanting to get the sweat off of me. By the time I get out of the bath, the water is cold.

I walk into my closet and run my hand across a row of gowns. My hand stops at a light blue. The same color the sky is on a clear, sunny day. The silk fabric glides across my hand. The light that peeks through the window in my closet makes the fabric shimmer. I get dressed, feeling the soft fabric glide across my skin. It hugs the top half of my body and flares out at my waist.

I walk out of my closet and sit at my vanity. I brush through my hair. I never liked my long dark brown hair because of how long it takes me to brush through it. I decided to just pin my hair into a low bun to keep it from bothering me.

As I get up from my seat, a knock sounds at my door. I look at my clock and realize I’m late for breakfast. I open the door and find Zoé Dubois, the housemaid.

Zoé is a pale, olive-skinned woman. Her eyes are amber in color. In the sun they sparkle like gold. Her raven-black hair is tied into a usual low ponytail. She is wearing a black and white floor-length dress with small black heels.

“Good morning Miss,” she announced with a curtsy, “Miss Laurette, requires your presence in the dining room.”

I silently nod and step out of my room. She turns around, in the opposite direction of the dining room, and leaves.

I walk down the hall, remembering how the building looked in my dream. The walls were taller than the walls in this house. The corridors were lined with paintings and tapestries. Our walls are blank, except for the occasional painting.

I stop in the hallway and look at a door. The door is usually closed and locked. However, at this moment the door is wide open. I looked up and down the hall, no one was there. I step inside and take a look around me. I knew that this room was the library, but this is the second time I have been here. Laurette doesn’t allow me to read anything that she hasn’t approved. My eyes wander around the room, looking at the endless amount of books until they find an open journal that is sitting on a side table. I hesitate to pick it up but decide that it will do no one harm and start reading from a page marked July 18, 1964.

_She had turned six last month. She is starting to question where her mother and father are. I’m not sure what to tell her. He and I decided to wait and tell her when she is older. I’m not sure about that anymore because the longer I wait to tell her the more likely she will try and find out about them. If she does read anything about them that will expose-_

My head snaps up when I hear a crash come from the kitchen. I put the journal back in its original spot and briskly walk to the kitchen.

Laurette was sitting in her spot at the head of the table. The table was set with silver dishes. There was a pitcher of orange juice next to a plate of browned sausage links, with a pile of cinnamon toast and shirred eggs on the table.

I pulled out my chair and sat.

“What took you so long?” Laurette questioned, “The food was starting to get cold.”

“Sorry, I lost track of time. I was reading,” I explained.

She tensed at my words. “What book? I don’t remember giving you anything new to read.”

“The Great Gatsby.”

She visibly relaxed and let out a light laugh. “Isn’t that the fifth time you read this book?” she asked, amused.

I gasped and held a hand to my chest in mock offense. “Is there anything wrong about that,” I let out a laugh, “I do have to say that Fitzgerald has a way with words.”

Laurette opened her mouth to reply, but the kitchen door opened with a squeak. I turn my head towards the door and our chef, Raulf Lapointe, walks out with a silver serving plate in his hand. He walks over to the table and places the tray down.

The warm smell of cherry and almonds wafts through the air, and my mouth starts to water. I have always taken a liking to kugelhopf.

“Good morning,” Raulf smiled. He slightly bowed his head and looked up at me.

I smile back, “Good morning, Raulf. How is your wife?”

His eyes brightened at the mention of his wife. “She is doing great. She is in Germany with her mother and sister.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

He nodded his head and walked out of the room. Laurette had started eating, so I plate a piece of cinnamon toast and eggs and begin to eat.

\---

We ate quickly without many words exchanged.

Laurette cleared her throat and looked at me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay?” It comes out more as a question, most likely because I am confused to why she is asking.

She nods her head and gets up without saying a word. She walks out of the room, and I stare at the door until I hear her calling my name. I scramble out of the chair and hastily catch up with her. She leads us into the library.

“I’ve decided that you will be leaving today,” she began, “As you may know, that this is not a joking matter. I have written to the palace asking for a position as a maid for you. They wrote back a week ago, saying that you will be able to fill in a position of a former maid that retired.”

My mind takes a second to process what she had just said. “A WEEK AGO?” I shouted. I was upset that I was hearing about this now. I was mad that she went behind my back and wrote that letter. Did she not trust me?

“Yes, a week ago. I needed to be sure that I had everything planned out correctly. We can’t mess up before we even start.”

I meet her eyes. Something about her hazel eyes was unsettling. The way she looked at me told me that wasn’t the whole truth, but I just brushed it off. She keeps too many secrets to count.

“You will be leaving at noon. Zoé has already packed everything that you will need. But I need to give you one more thing.” She turned away from me and started rummaging through her desk. I take a seat on the nearby couch. My eyes wander to the side table, and to my surprise, the journal was gone.

Laurette crosses the room and hands me a small plastic box that holds a brown-colored contact.

“This will help protect your identity. It’s not every day that someone is born with two different eye colors.” I eye the small package in my hands and nod. “I’ve been meaning to ask, have you been sleeping well?”

I let out a sigh, unsure of how to answer, “I’ve been having nightmares, but it’s nothing too serious, just some childish fears.”

She looks at me and smiles, “Alright, if you’re sure.” She looks over at the grandfather clock and looks back at me. “It is time to get going. Go get changed.”

I leave the library and make my way over to my room. On the bed is a dark blue dress. I get dressed and look in the mirror. The sleeves are long, and the dress reaches the floor.

By the time I have reached the front gate, it is midday. My Clydesdale horse, Melisent, and Laurette are waiting for me. I give her a quick hug and get on Melisent. Laurette looks at me.

“Don’t disappoint me, Margaret.”

“I won’t,” I declare.


	5. 02

I hand the paper to him with shaky hands. It felt as though everyone had their eyes on me, knowing the true reason why I was here. I could feel the contact in my eye, the drop of sweat on my temple, and the burning gaze of the soldier in front of me. I knew I was overreacting, but I didn't want to let my parents or Laurette down.

“Miss,” my eyes found the eyes of the soldier, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I asked what your name is.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, “Maggie Simon.”

“You will be replacing Miss Pierre, yes?” All I did was nod my head, I had no clue who that woman was. I assumed she was who retired. He looked me up and down again, then turned around. He walked back to the tower and opened up the gate.

I pulled at the reigns in my hands, and Melisent started moving forward. The grating of the grey gravel was all I could hear. The castle was enormous with bright green fields surrounding it. There was a lake in the distance and tall trees all around the castle grounds. Some with dark red apples, others with green apples, and a couple of golden yellow apples. 

I reached the stables and got off Melisent. I handed her off to a stable worker and thanked him. I felt a body crash into mine and I stumbled over.

“I am so sorry. I was just trying to find someone, and I wasn’t looking. Have you seen her by the way? Her name is Maggie. Sorry, I-” She cut herself up and looked at me with a small smile. “Sorry, I was rambling. I don’t think I’ve seen you around. My name is Eléonore. Eléonore Noyer.” She stuck her hand out.

“Mar- Maggie Simon.” I shook her hand lightly. She has dirty blonde hair, at waist length. Half of it was clipped back, while the other half was down. Her eyes were brown, but the sunlight caught them and I could see the gold flakes in them. 

Her eyes seemed to light up, “You’re Maggie! I’m sorry for running into you.”

“No need, It’s alright.”

She just nodded and started walking in the direction of the stable door. “You coming?” she called out.

We started talking about things that interested us. I found out that she was raised like me, having limited social contact. She wasn’t allowed to talk to many people because she lived in the castle. She was only allowed to talk to the other help. We warmed up to each other quickly, most likely due to the lack of interaction with people our age.

“Now the rules are simple, for the most part. Wake up at seven, be ready by seven-thirty. We usually don’t serve food to the king, queen, or prince,” my jaw clenched at the mention of them, “Unless they specifically ask for someone, but it’s usually the handmaid who serves the queen and the butler who serves the king. You should get a list of chores you should complete by the end of the day. Don’t speak to the king or queen, unless they speak directly to you. The same goes for the prince. And lights should be out by eleven.”

“That isn’t too bad,” I shrugged.

She nodded her head in agreement. We started walking up the steps to the castle. “I was excused from the rest of my chores today so that I could show you around. You will most likely start tomorrow,” she explained. I looked at her for a brief second. She seemed like a kind and humble girl, she wouldn’t be too bad of a friend. I noticed from the couple of hours we spent together that she was relaxed and care-free.

The guard at the door nodded in acknowledgment and opened the door for Eléonore and me. The walls were made of cobblestone with wooden beams for support. There were paintings of the castle grounds in the opening corridor. There were couches and small tables lining the walls. The tables housed roses and candles.

Eléonore started walking to a nearby hallway and I followed her. She was explaining about the different rooms that were in the castle that I could explore during my free time. There was the library, musical room, great hall, a pantry and kitchen for the maids, a lake, a pond with koi fish, a chapel, the west rose garden, another garden on the east side of the castle, the list went on and on. 

She also told me that the royal family was in Italy and would be coming tomorrow night.

She pulled out a key that was in the pocket of her dress and unlocked a door in front of her. This was another spacious and large room on the east side of the castle. I was guessing this was the maid quarters.

“This is essentially the common room for the maids. Oh, and before I forget,” she walked over to a dark wooden table and opened a box. She took a key out and handed it to me. “This is the key to our common room, don’t lose it or you’ll have to sleep outside.” She let out a light laugh and I smiled. 

We walked a bit further into the common room. There were multiple couches all in an off-white color. There were vases of white and pink flowers and a tapestry was hung on the opposite wall of where we entered. We started walking down a long and narrow hallway. Doors lined each side of the hallway. She opened a door and we both entered.   
There were two beds on opposite walls. Both had white sheets and a nightstand. The nightstands had a lamp on them. There was a window in the middle of the stands that had white curtains hanging on each end. A grey rug was in the middle of the floor.

“This is where you will be sleeping. My bed is on the left and your bed is on the right. That door right there,” she pointed to the right wall that had a door, “Is the bathroom, all your belongings are already in there.”

I let out a yawn and looked out the window. The sun had set and it was dark outside. I hadn’t realized that we had been talking for so long.   
“Thank you, Eléonore. I really appreciate what you have done,” I say to her with a small smile.

“It’s not a problem. I just wanted to make a good first impression because my mother says that first impressions are important. Then I found out that a girl my age would be coming to work here so I got super excited, but I didn’t want to- Sorry, I’m rambling again. I do that a lot when I’m nervous.”

A laugh echoes through the room, “It’s fine Eléonore, I do that sometimes too. But on the other hand, I think we could make great friends.”

“Yeah, ok. I’m going to get ready for bed, your bag is on the bed.”

She walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. I walked towards the bed and sat down. My feet were aching and my eye that held the contact was dry. I reached into my bag and got the small bottle that had some liquid for my contact.

The running water shuts off and Eléonore comes back into the room in a nightgown. She mumbles a goodnight and gets into her bed.

I walked into the bathroom and the first thing I did was wash my hands and take my contact out. I put it in the small bottle and opened a different tube that had eye drops. I quickly brushed my teeth and changed into my nightgown. 

Putting the eye drops and contact into the drawer in the nightstand, I pulled back the sheets and went to sleep.


End file.
